


First Best Mistake

by supersinger472



Category: Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms, Fate/stay night (Visual Novel)
Genre: Drunk Issei, M/M, Past Shirou/Rin, Post Fate/Unlimited Blade Works, low stakes drama, sequel fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:13:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26902681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supersinger472/pseuds/supersinger472
Summary: After dropping out of mage university Shirou is forced to return home to think about what he's going to do next. He's got no job, no girlfriend, and no plans for the future, What he does end up with is an unexpected confession from his former friend, Issei. A confession that leaves him reeling with shock.
Relationships: Emiya Shirou/Ryuudou Issei
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	First Best Mistake

Shirou stood in front of his childhood home and felt like a stranger for the first time in over a decade. It surprised him, how much could change in just a few months. He was happy to be home, but more for the sake of revisiting those he had left behind than for the chance to sleep in his own bedroom. His hesitation took less than a second before he worked up the courage to lift his suitcases and walk up to the front door, stopping himself before he knocked on his own front door; instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a heavy keychain. It held the house keys, the shed key, and even his key to the dorm at the Mage’s Association, he wouldn’t be needing that for a while.

It surprised him to open the door to a house that was warm and lit up. He'd left a spare key with Raiga in case of emergency but hadn’t expected the ancient man to actually maintain the house. As he set his bags down and unlaced his shoes he heard voices and laughter from the living room, which only deepened his confusion--and concern. When he set foot in the living room, for a split second he thought there had been a break in, or perhaps a typhoon might be more accurate. 

Trash sat in a thick layer on the floor; convenience store meals, candy wrappers, and empty snack bags. His socks stuck to the floor thanks to a thin film of spilled soda and beer. Shirou Emiya had survived two grail wars but he couldn’t repress the shudder he felt when he saw a cockroach drag its fat body out of a chip bag and flee between his feet. Laundry was piled on the floor and, to his horror, he saw a pair of panties hooked on the ceiling lamp. Hanging in the air was the musty scent of a house that hadn’t seen the sun in weeks, mixed with the stench of rotting food and a mysterious damp and salty smell. The only thing that kept his panic at bay was the sight of the two obvious culprits sprawled in front of the TV eating lunch directly out of white takeout containers.

“Illya! Miss Taiga!” Shirou was so disgusted he couldn’t help but snap at the two women.

Illyasviel von Einzbern, Shirou’s former rival in the holy grail war, turned at the sound of his voice and her whole face lit up. “Big brother!” She rushed over as quickly as anyone could through the ankle deep trash.

Shirou braced himself for the hug but, miraculously, she didn’t smell at all. She still only came up to his chest but in the year and a half since they’d met she’d grown from a child into a young woman. Taiga was close behind Illya to hug Shirou, her hair was longer but she was otherwise unchanged, her hug was crushingly tight as she enveloped Shirou and Illya. “Oh my god! Shirou I missed you so much! It feels like you’ve been gone forever!” Shirou couldn’t see her face but her voice was thick with tears.

“It’s only been five months!” Shiro extracted one arm from the double hug and gently patted Taiga’s back. 

“Yeah, five months too long!” Illya glared reproachfully up at him. “You didn’t even come back at Christmas!”

Shirou felt a pang of guilt at that, he’d promised to come home at Christmas and New Years but the Mage’s Association where he’d been going to college prided itself on forgoing those mundane traditions. He’d celebrated with Rin and Luvia but it wasn’t the same as celebrating with his whole family. “I know I missed the holidays, I’m sorry. I brought presents for you two, and Raiga, and Sakura if they’re around.”

“Of course they’re around,” Taiga snapped as she pulled away. “You’re the only one of my beloved students who thought it would be a good idea to abandon me and your homeland.”

“Speaking of which,” Shirous took in the filthy room again. “What happened here? Was there an accident?” He added almost hopefully.

“You left is what happened!” Illya folded her arms and stomped her foot like a child, crushing a tube of Yan-Yan and smearing chocolate all over her sock. “Oh ew.” She pulled off the offending sock and tossed it in the corner, Shirou could only watch in mute horror. “Neither myself nor Taiga know the first thing about tidying.”

“Well what about Sakura, I’m sure she’d happily teach you how to clean.”

Taiga shook her head, “don’t be foolish, asking a young woman over to a college-age boy’s home is completely inappropriate.”

“Besides,” Illya continued. “There’s no way an Einzbern would stoop so low as to ask a Matou for help.”

At the mention of the great magus families, the families responsible for the death of so many people in their wars for power, the magus families now apparently destroying his home, something snapped inside Shirou and he dimly hoped it wasn’t his mind. “Enough! Things are going to be different now that I’m here!” He jabbed a finger at Illya. “You! Collect all the dirty laundry in the house! I’m talking uniforms, shirts, dresses, every last sock, and those!” He pointed at the underwear hanging from the lamp and Illya lept into action, shocked by his harsh tone.

“And you!” He turned on Taiga who stood at attention. “Use as many trash bags as it takes and get all the garbage out of here, that means junk food too!” As Taiga scrambled to find trash bags Shirou left to get real food and the piles of cleaning supplies it would take to get the house back in order.

* * *

It took a whole day of scrubbing, picking up, and laying traps for vermin before Shirou felt the house was in a liveable state. He set plates of food down on the now gleaming dining table and wearily sank down. It was past midnight and he was dreading all the work he’d have to do tomorrow while Illya and Taiga were at school. Shirou enjoyed cleaning, but he’d rarely faced such a monumental task as the one the two women had given him. Although, he paused with a bite of fried vegetables on its way to his mouth, cleaning the necromancers’ abattoir at the Clock Tower, the central headquarters of the Mage’s Association that doubled as a top tier university, with its literal centuries of caked on blood had been almost as bad as what he’d found lurking in the corners of the living room.

“Hey, big brother.” Illya helped herself to another serving of rice. “How come you only brought two suitcases with you? They’re pretty small too.”

“I’m having the rest of my boxes shipped here. It was a bit too much to bring on a plane.”

“I wish I was still allowed to fly,” Taiga sighed longingly around a mouthful of food. “Who hasn’t made a mistake or two in their youth?”

“Anyway. You have to tell me all about the Clock Tower! What was it like studying with real magi? I bet a guy with a warped personality like yours fit right in.”

“It was interesting. It was hard work but I certainly learned a lot.” Shirou mentally sorted through all the people he’d met at the Clock Tower. “You’re right about there being a lot of eccentric mages, they’re all good people though.”

“Let me guess,” Illya jabbed her chopsticks at Shirou’s face, “they brought you beer constantly as a way of thanking you for doing their chores for them.   
  


Shirou gently pushed her hand down on the table. Five months away had ruined table manners it had taken him a year to teach her. “That’s not it at all, they’re good people, I’m happy to help them out.”

“What did I say? I thought dating Tohsaka would turn you into a man but you’re as much of an herbivore as always big brother.”

“It must run in the family.” Taiga said enigmatically.

Illya whipped her head around to look at her. “What does that mean?”

“I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

“What? Come on, you have to tell me! I’m older than big brother you know!”

“Shirou’s different, he’s a young man in college.”

  
“Lousy education, holding me back.” Illya grumbled as she stuffed food in her mouth with a sour expression.

“Cheer up Illya,” Shirou did his best to ignore the bitter feelings that welled up at the mention of Rin. “You’ll only be in school for a few more months, then you’re free to make your own choices about where you’ll go to college. You can even apply for the Clock Tower if you want.”

Illya rolled her eyes and tossed her hair, it was white as snow still but she’d cropped it into a much more modern pageboy cut. “I’ve decided I’m going to OOO university with my friends.”

“Oh, really?” Shirou didn’t hide his shock well.

“I have friends!” Illya slammed her hands down on the table.

“I didn’t mean it like that! I just always thought you’d want to go to a prestigious mage university, since you’re a more powerful mage than just about anyone I know.”

“Being around mages is a total bore, it’s all ‘Einzbern legacy’ this and ‘unexpectedly hearty homunculus’ that. I’m over it.”

Taiga stopped eating long enough to ruffle Illya’s hair. “That’s my girl. Go out in the world and make your own name!”

Shirou smiled as Illya whined and tried to fix her hair; he could have told her short hair would be more trouble than it was worth to maintain around someone as affectionate as Taiga, but he supposed it was within everyone’s right to be fashionable.

“Speaking of college!” Taiga thumped a fist in her palm and turned to Shirou. “Your school year is different than Illya’s, right? When do you go back?”

The rice in Shirou’s belly turned to sludge as his blood ran cold. He looked down at the table as if the right answer to that question was etched in the wood grain.

“Yeah, about that…”

* * *

_ The halls of the Clock Tower were frozen solid in early February, but nevertheless Shirou’s body was soaked in a nervous flop sweat as he poured over his notes on magical theory. The bench he sat on that seemed purposefully designed to be as uncomfortable as possible was nothing more than a dim and distant asteroid in the swirling galaxy that was his mind as he strained to cram as much knowledge into his head as possible in the next few minutes. _

_ The door at the end of the hallway opened and all the Clock Tower magi in training looked up to see a young blonde man in a red vest stumble out of the room. His skin was waxen with fear but he looked at the assembled students and gave them a shaky smile. _

_ “Fifteen thousand pounds.” He croaked out, a smatter of applause pursued him as he walked out of the hallway, no doubt back to his dorm to sleep off the late nights of little sleep and lots of studying. _

_ Shirou got to his feet, unsure of how good a job he did at hiding the trembling in his heart. Leaving his notes behind on the bench, the interview would be entirely from memory, he strode toward the interview chamber. The slightly ajar door grew as he approached until it was a vicious animal maw slavering to swallow him whole. He closed the door behind him as he stepped inside. _

_ The clock tower prided itself on two things; its long and storied history, filled with prestigious names, and the high quality of the education all its students received, regardless of which department they studied in. In order to ensure the students applied themselves properly to their studies, at the end of every semester the students would be tested and interviewed by each of the twelve department heads simultaneously. The results of the interview would determine the price of their tuition for the next semester. Failing students would receive a prohibitively high tuition and a strong recommendation to try again next semester, or in a few years. But at the same time Shirou had heard stories of students receiving tuitions as low as a few hundred pounds or even tens of pounds. The best he could hope for, and his only real saving grace was that since he had only completed one semester the interview would only cover General Fundamentals rather than the whole breadth of all twelve departments, was that his tuition would stay around a low five digits. If it edged into six digits he’d start to struggle. Rin had helped him enroll at the clock tower so his tuition had been a respectable fourteen thousand pounds, while she of course had just barely scraped above ten thousand, that gap had represented her lifetime of training and prestigious name. Unfortunately, this time Shirou had been forced to study mostly on his own. _

_ The interview room was unchanged from Shirou’s previous interview. A large, dark room lit only by twelve magical lamps placed on a horseshoe shaped desk that seated the serious look department Lords. They were also unchanged, though more familiar now that he’d spent half a year studying under them. Shirou appreciated their serious mood at a time like this, if they’d been talking and laughing the dissonance between their mood and his might have sent him into a spiralling panic. As it was, it took all the self control he’d built up over nineteen years to take six steps forward and stand in the divot of the desk. _

_ “State your name and rank for the record.” The Lord of the General Fundamentals department, a giant of a man named McDonell Trambellio Elrod, spoke first, his voice echoing slightly in the nearly empty room. _

_ “Shirou Emiya, Frame.” _

_ That was the last easy question as he was bombarded--sometimes literally--by the Lords for almost an hour. They asked questions, made him cast spells, and bickered amongst themselves. After they’d exhausted their questions they conferred in a whisper for several minutes, though something one of the Lords said made the long haired and skinny El-Melloi II of the Modern magecraft Theory department raise his voice in an indignant squawk. Eventually they turned to Shiou again, El-Melloi II looking ruffled and offended and McDonell looking apologetic. _

_ “Having reviewed your knowledge, and after weighing several factors.” McDonell shot a look at El-Melloi II that could have meant anything. “We are awarding you a tuition of one hundred thousand pounds. Of course, if you choose to instead take next semester off you’ll be able to reinterview and get a new tuition.” _

_ The existence known as Shirou Emiya was temporarily located somewhere above the North Atlantic, knocked there by the sheer force of his failure, a failure made that much worse by how confident he’d been beforehand. His body smiled and nodded robotically. “Thanks for the advice sir!” Without waiting to be dismissed, he turned and left the room. _

_ The waiting crowd of students looked up at him as he gathered his notes off the bench. “One hundred thousand pounds!” He told the student closest to him. The horrified gasps pulled a slightly manic laugh out of him that he had the good sense to cut short. With his head held high, Shirou Emiya, dismal failure of a mage, went to his room to pack. _

* * *

Silence hung in the air after Shirou finished his story. Silence that was broken by Illya slamming her hand on the table, rattling the bowls and plates. “That’s bullshit! You’re twice the man as any mage there, and you have at least as much brains!”

“It’s fine, really, I never expected I’d become a great mage. This is a good thing; it’ll give me the chance to reevaluate what I want out of,” Shirou paused, “my whole life.”

“Shirou.” Taiga’s voice was low and threatening. “Are you seriously dropping out of college after failing one test?”

He quickly threw up his hands, avoiding Taiga’s eyes lest she scorch his soul. “Not at all! I’m going to get a job and save up so I can reapply next fall!”

“That’s the spirit!” Illya raised her fists in the air, her knees bumping the table. “That’s the cool big brother I know!”

“That’s right!” Taiga nodded emphatically. “Men who persevere are pretty cool.”

“I’ll go looking for jobs tomorrow, while the two of you are at school.” Shirou yawned, the long day and the emotionally intense story had taken their toll on him.

“Hey, can I skip school and come with you big brother?”

“No.” Shirou and Taiga said simultaneously.

“Fine, be that way.” Illya hopped to her feet and stomped down the hallway to her room.

* * *

It was mid morning by the time the grogginess from Shirou’s late night faded away. It had taken almost no prompting for the household to settle into the routine that had defined it for his last year of high school. Wake up early, make breakfast for everyone, then lunches for Illya and Taiga. Everything felt so normal Shirou half expected Sakura to let herself in while he shaped rice balls into little bears. Of course she didn’t, she didn’t know he was back yet, but he had no doubt he’d see her tomorrow morning and the morning after that.

He closed the lunch boxes firmly as if shutting the lid on that line of thinking, wherever it might lead, and saw Illya and Taida off to school. He glanced at the clock, it would be several hours before the first stop in his job hunt opened its doors, he might as well spend the time cleaning.

* * *

By the time Shirou reached the bar known as Copenhagen, the February winds had chilled him down to the bone, so he was grateful the bar was in a basement that required him to walk down a flight of salt covered stairs to stand in a sunken alcove. The bar’s sign was dark but he knocked on the cheap wood door anyway.

“Sorry, sorry, we’re not open yet.” The woman who answered the door started to say as she opened it. She froze and a large grin spread across her face when she saw who had knocked. “Emiyan! It’s been a while.”

“Hi Neko.” Shirou’s hands were too deep in the pockets of his dark blue double breasted coat with its shiny brass buttons to do more than nod. “Mind if I come in?”

Copenhagen hadn’t changed a bit since Shirous had last been inside. The bar was small yet charming, with dark furniture and wooden floors that glowed gold in the lamp light. The wood burning stove set into the wall across from the bar chased away the winter cold so effectively Shirou had to peel out of his coat or he’d start sweating. The wall of alcohol bottles that glinted behind the bar and the display of photos of regulars taped on either side of the door that led to the staff area and the bathrooms had both grown.

“I’ll make coffee so you can warm up.” Neko stepped behind the bar and arranged the french press and coffee mugs. She was a pretty woman in her late twenties with long, elegant brown hair in a loose braid. Neko, whose real name was otoko, wore the black shirt and apron uniform with the air of someone who cared more about doing good work than maintaining appearances.

Shirou slid onto a bar stool and watched her work, wrapping his hands around the mug of dark, rich coffee when she handed it to him, sipping her own with a satisfied sigh.

“So, Emiyan, not that I don’t appreciate your company, but you’re not the kind of guy who stops by bars before they’re open. What do you need?”

“Well, to be blunt, i need a job again.”

Neko tipped her head back and laughed. “That’s all? Shirou, you were one of the hardest working employees here. I wish i could hire twelve of you!”

“Really? Well I hope you don’t mind that I’m still underage.”

Neko inspected him over the rim of her coffee cup. Shirou had shot up like a weed in height and his chest and shoulders had broadened. He no longer had the look of a muscular child, but instead was a handsome young man. Although his messy orange hair was proof that no matter how old he got, Shirou was still Shirou.

“It’ll be fine! Probably. No one will ask.”

“Well, if you’re fine with it then so am I.”

“When can you start?”

That caught Shirou off guard, though he wasn’t sure why. “I can start anytime you need me. Although I need another uniform. Mine doesn’t fit anymore.” He grinned sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head.

“If you don’t mind, could you come in for a closing shift? The person who was supposed to come in called out ‘sick.” The air-quotes around the word ‘sick’ more than communicated how much she believed that excuse.

“Of course I can come in.” Shirou didn’t hesitate to accept, he owed it to Neko for taking on the risk of employing an underaged kid after all.

“Great! I’ll see you then and no charge for the coffee.”

Shirou nodded gratefully and sipped his coffee. “Thanks.”

The two chatted a little longer, Shirou did his best to avoid the topic of what he was studying at university all the way in England, but he did mention he was taking some time off to save up money for the next semester. Neko understood that, her dad had paid for her college but she’d seen the bills. Shirou drank enough coffee to make his head buzz with caffeine and then he left, back home to continue cleaning and make dinner.

* * *

Shirou showed up again a little before midnight. Sure enough, Neko had come through, she’d left a neatly folded black shirt and apron on the table with a note.

_ Guessed your size, good luck!!! _

_ P.S. Don’t let them push you around Emiyan! =(^owo^)= _

The shirt fit him surprisingly well, all he had to do was roll up the sleeves a bit. It was a little tight in the chest, but if Shirou lost a button he was skilled enough with a needle and thread to put it back. He stepped out into the main room and behind the bar, nodding at the regulars sitting around. They exchanged pleasantries that were mostly Shirou explaining where he’d been, much to his dismay. Within no time at all he’d settled back into his old routine of making drinks and chatting with customers, cleaning things up when he got the chance. It was all so easy and natural it was like he’d never left.

The door swung open at two AM, right when Shirou was getting ready to close up in earnest. In stumbled three office drones in the rumpled suits of obvious partiers. They poured themselves onto bar stools and right in front of Shirou sat the last man he’d ever expect to see in a bar.

“Issei Ryuudou?” He blurted out.

The clearly tipsy Issei lifted his head at the sound of his name and burst into the most radiant smile Shirou had ever seen. He hadn’t changed a bit since high school, only his glasses were black rimmed rectangles now and his blue-black hair was in obvious need of a trime. His suit was a dark gray, mid-range affair, the kind you put on a credit card or blew your savings on so you wouldn’t show up to work looking like a slob. Regardless of quality it fit Issei’s body well, although he was currently missing his tie and there was a mysterious wet stain on the cuff.

“Emiya! I didn’t expect to see you working here. Wait a moment!” It was amazing watching Issei’s mind slowly shift gears from delight to suspicion. “Aren't you too young to be working behind a bar like this?”

Shirou laughed, “still acting like the student council president issei? Well, you’re not wrong, I don’t turn twenty until next January, but it should be fine so long as I don’t drink what I serve, isn’t that right?”

Issei’s face remained dark, but he was plainly too drunk to debate anyone. “I suppose so.” He sighed in defeat. “Three beers please, whatever’s on tap.”

Shirou filled the mugs and handed them off to Issei and his companions. “I have to say, it’s a surprise seeing you drinking late at night like a real salaryman.”

Issei shook his head as he took a drink, spilling beer on his chest. “This isn’t a common thing for me Emiya! This is just to celebrate!”

“Really? To celebrate what exactly?”

“You know, I can’t really remember anymore, isn’t that funny?”

“Okay, I’m definitely cutting you off after that beer, I’m starting to worry you won’t make it home.”

Issei waved his free hand. “I’ll be fine! I was going to take a cab home anyway.”

“That’s good then?”

“What about you, Emiya?”

“If I close quickly I can just make the last train, I’ve done it before.”

Issei shook his head belligerently, his bangs flopping into his eyes, the sight of which was so silly Shirou’s fingers itched to brush them away. “Not how you’re getting home! Why are you here?”

“Well I work here Issei.” Shirou gestured at his uniform.

Issei narrowed his eyes and stared at Shirou’s chest for a long moment. “But why here?”

“Let me ask you the same question. Why are you here? Why aren’t you in college or studying to take over Ryuudou Temple like you wanted to back in high school?”

Issei let out a loud sigh and rested his forehead on the bartop, rolling over so he could look up at Shirou. “You know why. After all the trouble Mr. Kuzuki and his wife caused there, it never felt quite the same.”

“I don’t think you have to call him Mr. Kuzuki now that you’ve graduated high school.” Despite his glib response, Shirou empathized with Issei. Not everyone would be able to live peacefully under the same roof as a person who had tried to kill them, even indirectly the way Caster had. “So you’re striking out in the world on your own? Cheers Issei.”

Issei smiled weakly and raised his beer. “Cheers Shirou. But it’s not much to celebrate yet. I’m a pencil pusher in a studio apartment.”

“Maybe for now.” Without thinking twice Shirou reached across the bartop and gave the morose Issei a pat on the head. His hair was pleasantly soft to the touch. “But you were student council president for a reason. You’re an expert at bossing people around.”

Issei gave him a smile at the pat on the head, which grew even wider when he was praised. “Thanks Emiya, once again I’m relying on you.” He slammed back the rest of his beer and slid off his stool. “I should get home, I’m going to work even harder tomorrow!”

After Issei had paid his bill and stumbled out the door, Shirou caught a glimpse of black cloth on the floor. He scooped it up and realized it was Issei’s missing tie.

“Don’t cause any trouble while I’m gone!” He called over his shoulder at the remaining drunks in the bar before racing out the door.

The night outside was the deep darkness just before it switched over from late night to early morning. Shirou spotted Issei wobbling down the street toward a taxi stand, his thin figure framed in sharp relief by a golden yellow street lamp. For a brief moment Shirou’s heart was seized by an emotion he could barely name, the misplaced nostalgia of finding yourself in a liminal space, like a grocery store in the middle of the night or an empty diner in the middle of nowhere. It felt as if any moment Issei would slip from this world and into the next. A fear that was hardly misplaced, as Shirou had learned at the Clock Tower. His shoes pounded the pavement and he felt oddly out of breath as he desperately caught at Issei’s arm, half afraid his hand would pass straight through. Instead it was warm and faintly muscular beneath his hand.

“Issei!”

Issei turned to face Shirou and the street lamp turned his skin to gold and his eyes into galactic black marbles.

“Emiya?”

Shirou licked suddenly dry lips and held out the tie. The tie that it would be an insult to claim was the same color as Issei’s fathomless black eyes, like comparing a mud puddle to the Pacific Ocean. “You forgot this.”

“Thanks.” Issei took the charcoal colored tie and stuffed it safely in his pocket. “Really Emiya, you’re going out of your way to help me. I know you help everyone but,” Issei broke off and looked down the street.

“I’ve always loved that about you.”

Shirou was shocked. Or he was hypnotized by those eyes that could teach the night sky a thing or two about being dark. Or he was distracted going through his mental thesaurus for synonyms for ‘surprised.’ Or he wanted it when Issei grabbed him by the front of his stupid uniform shirt and forced the button to give up the ghost and pulled him down into a kiss. A kiss that was sloppy and tasted of cheap beer and felt warm and alive and he never wanted it to end. Shirou’s mind was filled with question marks until it overheated and shut down and he was left in the single, blissful, peaceful moment of that perfectly imperfect kiss.

The clock ticked. A car honked. Issei pulled away with a face as red hot as Shirou’s felt and climbed into a waiting cab. All Shirou could do was watch, mouth agape, as Issei literally fled the scene.

**Author's Note:**

> Remember to like comment and subscribe if you support hiring underage college students to work in your bar.
> 
> Tumblr: mpregnateyourocs.tumblr.com
> 
> Twitter: @SweenMaxine


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